


Collaring

by Aivy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Harry, Dubious Consent, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Sub!Bella, Sub!Tom, Tomarry Halloween Exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aivy/pseuds/Aivy
Summary: Written for the 2018 Tomarry Halloween ExchangeBellatrix escapes Azkaban and kidnaps Harry on Halloween after his seventh birthday.





	Collaring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Son_of_Percy_Jackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Son_of_Percy_Jackson/gifts).



> Written for the 2018 Tomarry Halloween Exchange  
> Prompt by Son_of_Percy_Jackson:  
> Bellatrix kidnaps Harry at age 7 (on Halloween, obviously)  
> Dark!Harry, BDSM, Dom!Harry, Sub!Tom, Sub!Bellatrix
> 
> Actually very little Tomarry for a large portion of the story. That’s the way the prompt played out. I love how it challenged my imagination and writing skills.

_The present,  
31st October 1998_

Lovingly, he ran the tip of his wand over the naked skin of her shoulder, leaving behind red weals and goose flesh that spread over her whole body. With adoring eyes, Bellatrix looked up at him from her kneeling position and if there was any hint of a mad gleam in them, he only loved her more because of it.

“It is finally time, my dear,” he murmured, his quiet voice carrying in the otherwise silent room. “You will get what you have wanted for so long. Are you happy, Bella?”

“Yes, master,” she replied breathlessly, the two words suffused with desire. He knew it was not arousal but a deep seated need to belong, to be guided and possessed. She was beautiful in her devotion and the long years with him had restored most of what Azkaban had taken from her. Yes, he would be glad to make her his once and for all.

“If I could give you a present for all that you are ready to give me tonight, what would it be?” he wondered aloud, tracing the side of her face with affection. For a second, her eyes flitted to the side before they refocused on him. “What is your heart’s greatest desire other than becoming mine?”

She had to think for a moment. He could see her attention turning inward and was satisfied that she considered his question seriously. Slowly, another kind of fire began to stoke inside her and when she was ready to answer the intensity of the craze and hate in her dark, heavily hooded eyes might have frightened lesser beings. Her voice was husky when she spat:

“Raze Azkaban to the grounds. Exterminate all the Dementors. It might have been fun once upon a time to turn them on the Blood-Traitors and Mud-” Just in time she caught the warning sparkle in his eyes and amended, “Muggleborns but I don’t want to take any chance of ever encountering one of them again.” Where she had started passionately, her voice trailed out mumbled and self-conscious. He patted her head to show her that he didn’t mind her momentary lapse and replied:

“Then you shall have it. Let it be our opening blow. You know I am happy that you managed to escape from that dratted prison. Life would have turned out much different if you hadn’t.” His fingers remained in her shining black locks and he scratched her head, prompting her to purr. She leaned forward and pressed her face against his thigh, revelling in his touch, and he permitted it graciously.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_16 years ago,  
Around Christmas time 1982_

When Bellatrix Lestrange had been incarcerated like so many others on the start of November 1981 after getting caught torturing the Longbottoms to insanity for information about her master and what had happened to him, she had been quite distressed about the Dark Lords supposed vanquishing but also totally faithful to the idea that he would return and get her, his most devoted servant, out of prison quickly.

After a year in the Dementors loving care, she was not so confident anymore. Bereft of all positive emotion, the 31-year old daughter of the House of Black was filled with hate-fuelled determination to escape on her own and exact revenge on her enemies. Imagining in vivid colours how she would kill them kept her focused although the joy those thoughts brought her was siphoned off immediately by the soul-sucking guards of this miserable place.

But if she had to suffer, she took solace in the fact that she was not the only one to do so. Hearing the screams and wails of the other prisoners around her didn’t trouble Bellatrix, no, instead she cherished the sounds of other humans that broke through the isolation of her small, dingy cell. Between all of these, one voice stood out clearly, the one from where her dear cousin was quartered. Sometimes, when she threw taunts his way, little Sirius would reply in kind, but most of the time, the only noise coming from his direction were yelps and whines that sounded suspiciously canine.

If she had had the capacity for it, Bellatrix would have been embarrassed by how long it took her to catch on to the fact that her cousin was an Animagus and that was the reason why out of all the prisoners that had been here for the past year he was the one the least affected by Azkaban’s destructiveness. As soon as she realised it, her mind turned to only one goal: To become an Animagus herself. 

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Nearly twelve years ago,  
Sometime in early 1987_

It had taken her years to accomplish the task. Years to find her form and years to master a full transformation. Bellatrix was grateful that they seldomly got human visitors that could notice her partial transformations and the Dementors didn’t care if she spouted fur in places or had teeth that were too large and sharp for her mouth.

However, more than five years after she had been sent to prison, four years after she had started the process to become an Animagus, she finally did it; she fully transformed into an animal. And if her cackling frightened the other inmates into silence? Well, they deserved it for their weakness and cowardice. The beast didn’t care for them, it had a mission to get to: Exact revenge on its enemies and find its master. First, it would locate the one that had brought about the Dark Lord’s fall and kill him for this insolence...

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_The present,  
31st October 1998_

Both master and submissive were lost in nostalgic thoughts when his mind returned to the present. Accompanied by a pitiful whine of protest at the loss, he removed his fingers from her glossy hair. Unimpressed by the sound, he retaliated by slapping the tip of his wand that was still grasped in his other hand against the exposed peaks of her breasts to remind her who was in charge and the resulting shock made her jerk upright.

Judging by her suppliantly downturned gaze and her rigid posture, the reminder had been successful. Proudly, he thought that she made a pretty picture. Despite her age, her body was still nice to look at. Sure, her life had left traces in wrinkles, scars, and, most glaringly, the Dark Mark that was hidden against the flesh of the other arm where her arms were bound behind her back.

The colour of her skin was a precious creamy white and mady a lovely contrast to her black hair and the scarlet of the blood runes placed all over her nude body. They looked still as fresh and shockingly red as they had when he had painted them earlier this evening.

Her breasts were not as firm as those of a younger woman but they were so beautifully presented by her forced posture that he playfully swatted them a few more times just for the fun of it.

No longer taken by surprise, Bellatrix endured it without twitching much. However, she didn’t hold back her moans. She knew from experience that he liked to hear her reactions to his ministrations. Thus she didn’t feel shame when she cried out when he sent a Stinging Hex between her splayed thighs. The sound was swiftly swallowed by her master’s mouth locking with hers, his hand once again buried in her locks though this time it was to angle her head and keep it in place.

When he finally released her, both of them out of breath, he admitted with a smirk on his lips:

“We got carried away here for a bit. Shall we return to the actual purpose of tonight?”

Her answering smile was benign and she laughed freely at his sheepish expression. With a nod, she agreed to move proceedings back on track. After all, Bella was no stranger to things not going as planned…

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Eleven years ago,  
The middle of September 1987_

On quite paws, the predator snuck closer to the unsuspecting child sitting in the back garden of the suburban home. The little boy, that should be around seven by now but looked much younger with his scrawny appearance heightened only by the baggy clothes several numbers too large for his small frame, was concentrated on something near his feet and didn’t pay attention to the danger lurking in the shadows of his aunt’s rose bushes.

The light from a passing car reflected on the eyes of the beast that prepared to pounce on the easy prey when a hissing sound made it pause. The furry ears twitched when the sound recurred, answered from another voice that it wouldn’t have been able to hear with a human’s level of hearing. Intrigued, it looked for the source of the answering voice and spotted the small green garden snake that was right now slithering onto the boy’s offered hand. For a few more moments, the predator observed the avid conversation that took place between serpent and child before it slunk off, unnoticed. Today, the boy would be safe.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Eleven years ago,  
30th October 1987_

Things hadn’t gone to plan. The Potter boy being a Parselmouth had changed everything.

The dark haired witch stood at the edge of the wards that had let her pass several times in her animal guise over the last month and watched the neighborhood that housed the child gifted with a talent that was said to belong to Dark wizards and in this part of the world had been passed down solely in the Slytherin line for centuries. Being a Pureblood of good breeding herself, Bellatrix knew that it was impossible that the brat had inherited the skill from his father’s side - though he had the Potter looks, so the paternity was not in question - so if his mother was truly a Mudblood, he should not have been able to hold a two-sided conversation with a snake and he had done so one more time while she had been there to watch him.

It was quite the mystery and she was not ready to off him until she knew the answer. Hence, a change in plans had been necessary. She didn’t mind. It had taken her years to become an animagus and another few months to find the residence of the Boy-Who-Lived. She could adjust her plans and solve the riddle before advancing once more.

Right now she was waiting for the boy to leave the wards so she would be able to talk to him but he hadn’t set a foot outside the house for most of the last week. It was really curious how the pesky Muggles treated the supposed saviour of the wizarding world. Tomorrow was Samhain, Halloween, the Day-the-Dark-Lord-Fell. Surely, somebody would get the boy for the celebrations. She would be there and watch out; she had nothing better to do.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Eleven years ago,  
31st October 1987_

The beast had lain in wait wedged in-between the shrubs and the hedgerow for most of the day. It was a Saturday so the fat human hadn’t gone to work and the only one that had left the house for the day was the skinny, tall, horse-faced female. She came back laden with bags of groceries. Now dusk was setting in and costumed children were flooding the streets, walking from door to door begging for sweets. No witch or wizard had shown their face all day, at least not any real one as far as it could tell.

Eventually, the front door of number four Privet Drive swung open and the little chubby human came out clad like a pirate, swinging a wooden sabre, followed by his parents. No Boy-Who-Lived in sight. The predator waited for another half hour but no-one else entered or left the building, so it finally wriggled out of its hiding spot and approached the house. It would probably attract less attention on this day of the year in its human form, tattered witches’ robes and all but the wards would react the moment it registered either wanded magic or the Dark Mark.

Hence, it were soft paws that nudged against the front door. It was firmly shut but that didn’t matter much because after a month-and-a-half of reconnaissance it knew the ins and outs of the house. Swiftly, it rounded the house until it got to the back and found the window to the basement that was left open at all times and partly hidden behind a barrel and the utility shed. Although it wouldn’t permit an adult human, it was large enough for a child or several kinds of animals, including Bella’s animagus form.

Inside the house was new territory for the beast. It hadn’t yet dared to venture into the Muggle humans habitat and curiously nosed around in the kitchen and living room once it had clambered up the basement stairs and overcome the door that divided it from the rest of the house. Thankfully, it hadn’t been locked. 

The scent of its prey was all around the place. Curiously, it was the strongest in a part of the corridor that housed a cupboard under the stairs. And there were sounds coming from it that didn’t belong in a cupboard. Quiet shuffling and sighing. The beast walked closer, its claws clicking against the hardwood of the floor, eying the lock on the outside of the cupboard. A curious thing to have there. The enigma grew more and more.

The mechanism wasn’t complicated, a simple sliding bolt. Enough to keep anything - or anyone - that was inside locked in. The animagus stood up on its hind legs and put its front paws against the cupboard door. It was stretch but it managed to push the pad of its paw against the knob of the bolt. It didn’t budge.

By now, the sounds from inside the cupboard had increased in volume and the beast was pretty sure that its prey was pressing an ear against the wood. Too bad it couldn’t open the blasted door from the inside. Frustrated, it let go of the bolt and dashed back into the kitchen.

Applying its whole body to the task, it pushed a chair in front of the cupboard and jumped on top. When it now stood up on its hind legs, it was able to catch the knob in its jaws. After some tugging, the sliding bolt began to move and unlocked the door.

Happy with the progress, the beast jumped back down and kicked the chair out of the way. The prey inside the cupboard had gone still as soon as the bolt slid free of the loop; it was even holding its breath. Patience not really its strength, all the practice it had had the last years notwithstanding, the predator wedged its nose into the gap between door and frame and pushed it open.

It was dark inside the cupboard. The small amount of light that reached into the corridor and enabled the animagus to see its surroundings was no great help inside the cupboard. What was clear was the stench of unwashed child with a small tinge of fear, accompanied by traces of dust, mould, and the sharp note of Muggle cleaning agents.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

Harry had been left behind in his cupboard when his aunt and uncle had taken Dudley out for trick-or-treating. It was the same as every year and nothing new for him. If he was lucky, his cousin would get enough candy that he spread it over the whole house and wouldn’t notice if Harry filched a few pieces. The small chance of getting caught would be worth the treat.

He was just about to fall into a light slumber when the a clicking sound startled him wide awake. It was too loud and near to come from outside. What could it be? It sounded not unlike the noise Mrs Figg’s cats made when they ran through the old woman’s house with their claws out. Was that it? Claws? Had a cat strayed into the house? Or a squirrel?

Curious, he perked up his ears, going so far as to press one against the cupboard door. He couldn’t make any sense of what he heard and was taken by surprise when he heard the characteristic sound of the bolt sliding free. The door swung open and he froze in place, didn’t even dare to breath. Ingrained by years of habit, his eyes went up to where he would find the face of his aunt - or much more rarely his uncle - but, of course, there was nothing to see, only empty air and the dark grey of the corridor after nightfall.

Very slowly, he lowered his gaze until it landed on the furry shape in front of his cupboard. Then, suddenly, panic settled in and he scrambled out of the enclosed space into the corridor. The animal retreated a few steps to give him the place to do so.

“You can’t be here!” he declared loudly. “My uncle will go ballistic if he finds you in the house and he will blame me for it. What are you even doing here?” With long practice, he moved in the barely lit corridor and shooed the creature in the direction of the front door. It had four legs and fur, was larger than the cats in the neighborhood and the shape was not quite right for it to be one. Was that the snout of a dog? Harry wasn’t sure and he didn’t really care right now.

The animal moved readily enough and waited for him beside the front door. Cursing under his breath, he unlocked the door with the spare key that always hung on the key hooks and cracked it open, motioning for the intruder to slip through. It just looked at him with eyes that gleamed yellow in the light of the streetlamp that shone through the gap of the door as if waiting for something.

“Go!” he urged it but it made no indication to do so. With a sigh, he opened the door wider and let go of it, stepping towards the animal - A dog after all? He had never seen such a strange dog in all of his life but then he didn’t get out often - either to shoo it again or to pick it up as it hadn’t made any threatening gestures up until now and he was much more afraid of his uncle. That was the moment it lunged at him.

Harry reacted very belatedly as he first thought it wanted to flee through the open door. It did, but it dragged him with it, its sharp teeth sunk into the fabric of his overlarge jumper that he hadn’t taken of for the night as his threadbare blanket didn’t give enough warmth this late into the autumn.

Together, they stumbled out of the house and the creature didn’t stop there, pulling him along. After a despairing look back to the front door that stood ajar in their wake, he started to struggle, fighting to get free from the mad dog. It looked back at him with an expression that couldn’t be described other than chiding.

As soon as they reached the street, he stopped to fight back. It had been drummed into him to not attract attention in public and putting up a fight against an animal did certainly qualify. He began to move into the direction it wanted him to go, hoping that if he did so quickly enough, he would be able to get back to the house and his cupboard before anybody noticed he had been gone.

As soon as he accepted his fate, the creature let go of his jumper and escorted him instead at the heel like a good puppy. Now in the yellow light of the street lights he was able to make out its reddish brown fur that was black on its back and at the tip of its bushy tail. It might be a dog, but it was more like what Harry thought you might get if you crossed a fox with a wolf.

It was a totally surreal experience and it would only get worse.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

That went much better than expected. The beast was very satisfied that the prey played along and willingly followed it out of the wards.

When they had crossed the invisible border that it had so painstakingly charted in the month it had been in the neighbourhood, it looked carefully into all directions. Amused, it noted that the little human copied the motion even if it was noticeable that it didn’t know what they were looking for.

After it had made sure that nobody was there to see the transformation - well, aside from the prey - it shifted back into its human form.

Bellatrix rolled her shoulders and moved her aching jaw. Tugging the struggling boy along had not been easy on it, despite his small and light build. It would go away soon enough. Said child was staring at her as if he had never seen an Animagus changing forms. Okay, he probably had never seen that happen before, what with the Muggles imprisoning him and now that no-one had shown up on this special day she was as good as sure that he never had had contact to the wizarding world. Wasn’t that mind-boggling?

“Who are you? What are you?” croaked the prey - um, boy.

“I am Bellatrix Lestrange née Black and you are Harry James Potter, a Parselmouth. Oh, and a wizard,” she sprang the facts at him.

“I must be dreaming,” he determined upon that shock.

“You are not. And you are coming with me.” With that she grabbed his arm and apparated.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Ten years ago,  
31st July 1988_

The blood wards around Number Four Privet Drive shuddered and fell.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Eight years ago,  
Start of August 1990_

“Harry, I am home!”

Harry looked up from the pot he was stirring when he heard Bella’s voice from the entrance hall and replied:

“Welcome back. Dinner’s nearly ready. Did you get everything you were looking for?”

Ten minutes later, they were seated around the way too large table of the dining room in the Lestrange’s summer house in southern France and he was gazing fondly at his saviour as he had come to think of her while she told him of her hunt for herbs in the countryside. She ended her story with:

“I think we have nearly everything now to perform that location spell. Tomorrow I can take you to Paris to get your wand and the last ingredients that we haven’t been able to find around here. Is the base potion still good?”

To gather the ingredients and brew the potion had taken longer than she was comfortable with, what with the rareness of some and the dependence on seasons, moon phases and slow maturing of others, but curiously she didn’t mind as much. Harry was good company.

Over the last two, nearly three years, Bella had been teaching him the basics of magic, including simple potions and the theory of most magical disciplines and he had sucked it all up like a dry sponge. In turn, he had taken care of her, taking over cooking and household chores whenever they couldn’t be performed by magic and maneuvering them through the Muggle world on their way to the continent.

They had to travel mostly by Muggle means as you couldn’t apparate across the canal, also not if you hadn’t been there before - or couldn’t remember being - and as an Azkaban inmate with the kidnapped Boy-Who-Lived as a companion they couldn’t exactly use the public Floo network or apply for a long-distance Portkey. She also didn’t want anybody to know where they were heading, so Muggle means it was.

While Harry hadn’t been out often he had been sent on errands by his aunt often enough to know how Muggle money and public transport worked. Bellatrix had no scruple to steal a purse or two and Harry used the money to cloth them and buy them tickets to the continent.

The witch knew that her husband’s family had a summer home and no Lestrange was still alive and free to disturb them there so the first step of her plan had be to get there and make it their base before they worked out the next points of the plan.

It hadn’t been easy to move about with a small child and no piece of ID to their persons. At least they looked alike enough that nobody questioned their relationship and Bella had never seen the need to correct anybody if they assumed he was her son.

It would have been much less difficult if she had been able to travel in her animagus form and didn’t have a child attached to her that needed to be fed and watered and more than once she had thought about simply leaving his corpse behind. But she had been quick to get attached to the little bugger and whenever she saw his joy at learning more about his wizarding heritage or heard him talking in Parseltongue to a snake crossing their way she was reminded why she had let him live in the first place. He would be great one day.

The house had accepted them easily enough and the first few months of their stay had been spend to make it habitable again. No house-elves lived here as they hadn’t been needed most of the year, instead being brought along when the house was in use and the elves at the main residence in Britain had most likely been sold or freed when all living members of the family had been incarcerated at once.

While the boy had accepted her as a teacher and was tolerating their living arrangements, he had still been wary around her until his first birthday in her care. She had been out like she often did when she was searching for sources of intel for the whereabouts of the Dark Lord and when she got home she had brought take-away.

At his bewildered question, “Why?”, as that had never happened before she had answered:

“Why not? You shouldn’t have to cook on your birthday!”

When Harry dissolved into tears after that it had been her turn to be surprised as he had never cried in her presence before.

The tears hadn’t stopped for long on that day, as she had presented him with a present - his first, as he claimed - and had only increased when she vowed:

“It is a good thing that you will never have to go back to those despicable Muggles. One day in the future, when you are older and an accomplished wizard, we will hunt them down and give them what they deserve. Until then, you won’t have to think about them. Is that a deal?”

At those words his beautiful green eyes had shone with an unholy light, even as he sought for assurance in a tiny voice:

“I won’t have to go back? They are no longer my family? I will never again live in a cupboard?”

“No! Your home is with me. I am all the family you need.” At her fervent reply he had started to beam and he had jumped her, hugging her tightly.

Since then, they had developed an easy camaraderie and evolved into a highly functional team. Having heard Bella’s tales about the great Dark Lord and his glory, Harry had agreed to accompany her on her search for him and together they had decided how to go about it.

Thus they found themselves around the dinner table in early August at the end of their third year together and also the planned end of their stay in France. As soon as Harry got his wand they would pack their belongings and perform a locator spell that would hopefully point them in the right direction for the start of their search.

Bellatrix intel had unearthed several leads but most of them had gone cold or turned out to be false after only the merest bit of investigation. People claimed to have seen the Dark Lord or his ghost or any other kind of manifestation all over the world, from nearly every corner of the British Isles over Germany, Italy and Croatia, Brazil, Japan and the USA. One source even reported that the Dark Lord was living as a monk in Tibet.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_The present,  
31st October 1998_

“Let’s get started so that we can get to the second part of the evening. Don’t you agree, my dear?” With swift fingers, he collected her glossy black curls in a hand and twisted them into a messy updo that he pinned to the back of her head. She felt his appraising eyes tracing the naked line of her neck before he trailed the tip of his wand down the visible line of her spine and she had to repress a shudder for several reasons. When he kissed the top of the red weal that indicated where his wand had touched her skin she could imagine the smirk on his lips and then he stepped away from her and ended the enchantment on his instrument. It would interfere with what was about to happen.

The kneeling woman resisted the urge to turn her head around and look at him when his deep, confident voice filled the room with the first words of the ritual they had chosen and adapted for the occasion. She didn’t concentrate on the words, only the rhythm and let it lull her into a trance, until it was time for her to react. When he addressed her directly, she opened her eyes and took in the swirls of colour that were streaming out of his wand and building a cocoon of light around her but didn’t alter her submissive pose.

“Bellatrix Druella Lestrange née Black, do you consent to become my willing slave?”

“Yes, master. I do.”

“Do you vow to become mine, and only mine? To follow my every command and renounce all other bonds of law and magic?”

“Yes, master. I do.”

Why her first reply had been steadfast and confident, her second was laced with a note of pain but no less sure. Her arm felt on fire where it was bound behind her back and so was the finger that still held her wedding band since the day she had married Rodolphus Lestrange. It would only become removable by death or through her dear husband or so she had been told. They would see if that was true.

“Do you accept to wear my collar with pride until the day you die?”

Her vision was tinged with red and dark spots appeared everywhere. She grit her teeth and forced the words out through sheer stubbornness.

“Yes, master, I do.”

The last syllable hadn’t even left her lips when she felt cold metal fastened around her throat and soft words spoken right next to her ear that finalised the ritual and claimed her for him and all eternity. The pressure of magics battling increased around her until she feared it would crush her in the midst of it all as both marriage vow and Dark Mark fought against the new and exclusive claim on her. Warm arms embraced her and held her upright when she would have collapsed under the strain.

Though the pain in her arm and ring finger was excruciating and increasing until it rivalled the Cruciatus Curse, she still felt it when the blood runes started to warm, sending tingles through her body and counteracting the torturous pain. Pleasure rose until she was shaking with the mix of it all, clouding her mind and overwhelming her senses. Her world was reduced to the battle currently fought inside her being.

The balance was tipped when deft fingers ventured between her splayed thighs and found the exquisite bundle of nerves located there. Gently rubbing, he whispered:

“Come for me, my Bella.”

As overwrought as she was, the featherlight touch and his command send her over the edge and she came undone with a wail.

With a flash of light, the collar that she knew to be made of pure gold and inscribed with runes by her masters own hand and wand sunk into her skin, leaving behind only the runes in lines of angry red that would later fade to gold. As soon as it happened, the pressure diminished along with the visible magic around them until it was only a horrible memory between many and she became aware of the body pressed against her bound arms and the hands that caressed her reassuringly.

“You did admirably, my love,” whispered a sweet voice into her ear. She could hear the exhaustion in it. Even as powerful as he was, breaking bonding magics was not a feat that he did every day. “We did it. Now there is only one thing left to do.”

With that he flicked his wand and released the bindings that held her legs folded and splayed. He stood and picked her up with him, carrying her in his arms when he stepped to the pool in the corner that was prepared with warm water and scented oils.

Not stopping at the edge to take off his clothes, he walked right into the water, down the steps until he was emerged up to the waist. In the middle of the pool a conveniently placed block of stone supported her body while still letting her rest in the soothing water and he let her go to grab her chin and turn her face until she looked into his eyes.

“Close your eyes and relax. I will take care of you,” he said reassuringly and she did as he had ordered, smiling when she felt him kiss her forehead.

The next touch she felt was by a soft sponge gently rubbing over her skin, removing sweat and the remains of the blood runes that were now brown and flaking. Her master washed her with loving care from head to toe and she let the soothing, repetitive movement lull her into a light doze.

Only when he picked her up a second time, did the witch become aware of her surroundings again and snuggled against his chest. From her position, she felt his chuckle more than she heard it.

He placed her on a bed in the back of the cavernous room and dutifully tucked the satin sheets over her naked body. On the bedside table was a jar of salve waiting and he grabbed it before sitting down next to her on the mattress and gently pulling her arm into his lap.

For a moment, he did nothing more than gaze at the stark white scar marring her skin where the Dark Mark used to be and the burn on her finger left behind by the wedding band. He had done that to her but it had been necessary to erase the claim other wizards had on his witch.

After spreading the cool healing ointment on the already half-healed wounds he softly kissed her lips and stood up.

“Sleep if you can. Watch if you want. It is now time for me to give someone else my undivided attention.” At his declaration, they both turned their heads and looked towards the person chained against the far wall and were greeted with a mutinous glare from dark brown eyes.

“Your turn, Tom!”

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Seven-and-a-half years ago,  
Start of May 1991_

After acquiring the wand for Harry and performing the locator spell that used Harry’s blood and Bellatrix connection to her Lord through the Dark Mark they knew that there best chance of finding the missing dark wizard would be on the Balkan Peninsula.

They had gotten several weaker signals from several places in Britain, including London, Wiltshire, and Hogwarts, and their own location. The witch wondered if those were Dark Marks responding to the spell as she could allot nearly all results with a prominent inner circle Death Eater. But then shouldn’t there have been many more feedbacks with a cluster where Azkaban would be in the North Sea?

She had discarded that train of thought for the elation that overcame her when she had looked at the peak that assured her that her master was waiting for her in Albania only to sober up when she thought about the dangers that would await them in the wilderness of that forest that would make a trip into the Forbidden Forest look like a walk in the park. With Harry only having received theoretical lessons in anything that required a wand, she couldn’t take him into that danger unprotected.

So their travel plans had been postponed for the winter while she rigorously trained him in defensive and offensive magic, adding in a bit of knife work after she had given him his own cursed silver knife as a Christmas present.

Once the weather began to warm and she was satisfied with the progress her young charge had made, they packed for good and sealed the summer house behind them, setting off for southeastern Europe. The delay had made it possible for her to acquire a long-distance Portkey to Greece on the black market which considerably shortened their journey.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

After all the preparations they had gone to, it was laughably easy to find the Dark Lord. Or rather, the Dark Lord’s spirit found them after only three days of trekking through the Albanian wilderness that had proved hostile but unable to do lasting harm to Harry and his mentor. 

From there, things had gone downhill.

It was a half-decayed snake that entered the clearing where they had made their camp at dawn of their fourth day in the forest. Strong wards enclosed the camp but the serpent was able to pass them unhindered for Bella wanted her master to be able to find them. Nonetheless, the intruder tripped an alarm that woke the two travellers in their tent and made them stumble out into the clearing with their wands drawn.

The snake might have been reddish with a dark brown zigzag pattern running the length of its back once. Now it had large patches of greyish flesh all over its body, with holes here and there where pieces had fallen away, and one of its eyes was missing. The tongue was still intact as evidenced when it hissed at them:

_~Can it be? Has one of my faithful found me eventually? Bellatrix, who have you brought me here?~_

The witch looked from possessed snake to Harry and back. 

“Is that him, Harry? What did he say?”

 _~Yes, that’s him.~_ Harry hissed. When he saw Bella’s lack of understanding, he looked away from the snake and repeated:

“Yes, that’s him. He wants to know who I am.” He didn’t dare to look away for too long and fixed his gaze back onto the ‘zombie snake’ when it gave an answering hiss.

 _~Harry? A Parselmouth?~_ The Voldemort snake stated and slithered closer. _~I think he is the right age. Has it been that long already? Oh, you brought me a sacrifice. That is very nice of you, Bellatrix.~_ With that the Dark Lord’s vessel lunged at the boy, only to to smash its snout into the Protego its intended victim had cast quickly to defend himself against the attack. Bellatrix’ training had clearly payed of and honed his reflexes.

Her own shout of “No!” came a second to late and when the still bedazzled serpent focussed a mistrustful milky eye on her, she hastened to explain without getting the translation first:

“Harry is an ally. He is on our side and will serve you happily, my Lord.”

That didn’t sit well with the disembodied Dark wizard.

_~You can’t mean that, stupid witch. He is the one that reduced me to this pitiful existence. He is the one that is propecised to defeat me, to kill me! The child has to die!~_

If Harry hadn’t already been grossed out by the rotting animal which didn’t look the least like the glorious Dark Lord of Bella’s tales, that rant would have been warning enough. However, his still erect shield spell didn’t do any good against the enraged spirit that shot out of the snake and right through the Protego.

His outcry at the violent invasion of his being by the malevolent spirit form of Voldemort was cut short when the older and more powerful wizard pushed his, Harry’s, self to the back, taking control of their now shared body.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

Bellatrix looked on with trepidation as a cruel smile twisted the familiar features of her companion and the beautiful emerald eyes turned crimson with the taint of the soul that apparently was now in charge.

“Ah, yes, that will do until I have the chance to rebuild my own body. Thank you, Bellatrix, for bringing me this vessel.” Even if it were Harry’s vocal cords that formed the words, they didn’t sound the least like him, the tone and inflection all wrong. Her boy could be ruthless but never vicious, never cruel. “Now, I think you tried to intervene when I attacked the Boy-Who-Lived. Yes, even I heard that epithet they gave him in celebration of my downfall. And you try to protect him against me? I will teach you not to do that again. _Crucio!_ ”

While Bellatrix lay on the forest floor, trashing and shrieking, tears came to her eyes. Not because of the pain. She had learned to accept the pain of her master’s wraith - and others before him - a long time ago, sometimes even welcomed it. No, she cried because the dream of her future was shattering before her eyes. She had wanted them to become a team, a family, the three of them. She wanted to have them both by her side, the brilliant boy with the great potential and his insatiable thirst to learn all there was about magic and the powerful Dark Lord, the loyal master and mentor that had made her the witch she was - or rather had been before her incarceration.

Now one was insisting on destroying the other and her Harry would cease to exist. She couldn’t allow that to happen!

When the Cruciatus Curse was lifted, she stayed down, gathering her wits and strength while her limbs twitched involuntarily with the after-effects of the torture spell. She would have only one chance. If she failed, he would kill her. If she was lucky, it would be quick.

Bella tightened her grip on her wand and slowly rose to her knees, her head held low, her eyes turned down so she wouldn’t advertise her thoughts.

Her master was too occupied with plotting his return to the Wizarding World to pay her much attention, pacing and rambling something about unicorn blood, his father’s grave and whatnot.

She waited until he was facing away from her until she cast a non-verbal spell at his back. Not trusting in her magic to subdue him for long, the witch threw herself at the ten-year-old body and wrestled him down. Ignoring the murderous glare of her petrified master, she looked deep into his eyes, appealing to Harry’s presence that must be still there somewhere:

“Harry, I will exorcise him from your body, but I need your help. You must fight him from the inside while I will draw him out from the outside. I can’t do it alone. Come back to me, darling.”

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

In the dusty corners of his being, the young soul was filled with new hope that she wouldn’t abandon him for her mad master and he started to struggle against the Dark Lord’s overwhelming presence. Recalling happy days spent brewing, talking, training together, joyful years living and laughing in each other’s company, long comforting nights scratching jackal-Bella’s ears, sleeping together curled up on the couch or one of the many beds of the summer house, or lying awake listening to stories of the past or spinning their own tales of the future to come, her words echoed in his consciousness. ‘I need your help.’ ‘Come back to me.’

Filled with love for the woman, the witch that had rescued him from the misery that was his life at the Dursleys’ and given him back his childhood, if in her own twisted ways, he suffocated Voldemort’s vengeful spirit with his feelings. The Dark Lord couldn’t stand the scorching intensity of the positive emotions for long, before he followed the pull of Bellatrix chanting - right back into his former serpent vessel.

Slowly getting back the awareness that he was indeed the master of his own limbs and senses, Harry followed Bellatrix’ actions as she let go of him and dashed over to the heap of coils that was the zombie snake. While still in motion, she cut into the fleshy part of her left hand and moistened the pad of her right index finger with the oozing blood. With the scarlet paint, she wrote runes onto what was left of the animals body, trapping the Dark Lord’s spirit within.

At least that was what he guessed she was doing, from what he deducted from the situation and the half of runes that he could recognise by now. He had learned enough to know that the blood runes - while magically powerful, especially if the blood was from a sacrifice - were not suited for long-term use. They would have to find a more permanent method to keep the Dark Lord’s spirit contained.

 _Too bad that he is so hostile. I really wanted to get to know him better. Bella will be devastated if we have to destroy him,_ he thought wistfully.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_The present,  
31st October 1998_

Long bloody welts and bruises littered Tom Riddle’s back. His cheek was chafed where it was pressed against the stone wall and his wrists and ankles weren’t looking much better.

“Do you have enough?” Harry asked with a deceptively sweet voice, covertly massaging his shoulder that was aching after so long a time swinging the whip and other implements. He only allowed this show of weakness because the other wizard’s eyes were covered securely by a Blindfolding Spell. He had chosen to engage with Tom in such a physical form because his magic needed time to replenish after the ritual he had performed for and with Bellatrix.

“I’ll never have enough, you filthy half-blood,” did he get his answer through clenched teeth. Tom never knew when to shut up and was outstandingly bad at showing pain. Part of the fun was getting him to do both. It was just very tiring to achieve.

“You always forget that you are a half-blood yourself, aren’t you.” Banishing the whip back to the rack, Harry stepped closer to the chained man and raised a hand after assuring himself that the bonds were still taut and reliably secured. He had gotten too many elbows to the ribs, kicks to the shins, and worse to be careless when Tom Riddle was concerned.

A flick of his downturned wand vanished the blindfold and he was once again amazed by the well of emotion in the dark brown eyes of the other wizard, first and foremost at the moment stubborn defiance. Where Bellatrix was all pliable devotion and the desire to please and serve, Tom was a creature of fight, never accepting defeat, always wrangling for dominance. Harry held his gaze when he moved his other hand and smeared the blood on the back in front of him.

“You want to forget that the blood of a Muggle runs through your veins, just as the blood of my Muggleborn mother runs through mine,” he said, noticing the flicker of hurt his action provoked. It was a low blow, he knew. However, they could keep it up until sunrise - had so in the past - if they continued on as they had and he wanted to finish before midnight. It was already a close game and so he purposefully aimed to get a rise out of the handsome older wizard.

And it worked. With an inarticulate shout, Tom threw himself backward into Harry’s body and a wave of wandless magic made his shackles not only click open, it shattered them into a thousand pieces that rained down onto the two wizards. But Harry was prepared and used the momentum to turn around and throw the other through the room.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Seven years ago,  
10th of May 1991_

They had left the Balkan Peninsula as quickly as possible though they hadn’t returned to France, instead opting to return to Britain right away as they had planned anyway for the coming summer. Close to Harry’s eleventh birthday the Hogwarts’ owl would come for him and they hadn’t wanted it to be addressed to their one secure hide-out.

They hadn’t yet decided if he would attend the school in Scotland or any other school for that matter. However, in case Dumbledore and his lackeys tried to find them via the Hogwarts letter, they had to be somewhere that didn’t put them into more of a precarious position.

Upon their return to the British Isles, which wasn’t made any easier by smuggling the Dark Lord turned zombie snake on whom they had renewed the blood runes every other day with freshly collected blood, Bellatrix had owled her sister Narcissa, asking if she could visit the Malfoys’ ancestral home with her companions. The answer had been carefully polite but positive, so two week after their encounter with the Dark Lord in Albania, they set foot into Malfoy Manor.

As requested, Narcissa welcomed them alone, with Lucius away at work and Draco on a playdate at one of his friends’ houses.

“Bella, is that Harry Potter?” asked the blonde witch her sister with disbelief colouring her cool voice. “You can’t just bring Harry Potter into our home!”

“Why not, little sister? Harry, this is Narcissa Malfoy née Black. Cissa, this is Harry Potter. We brought the Dark Lord.”

In an uncharacteristic show of sheer exasperation, ice-queen Narcissa Malfoy facepalmed.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Seven years ago,  
1st of September 1991_

They had left Voldemort with the Malfoys where he was stored in the family mausoleum that was sufficiently equipped to keep malevolent spirits contained. Lucius had been let in on the secret and had agreed that a war and their former masters wraith after claiming that he had been under the Imperius Curse was not something that he wanted to subject himself and his family to. Things were going well at the Ministry and where Dumbledore had one ear of the Minister, Lucius had the other.

The Hogwarts letter had come and they had sent their acceptance, reasoning that Dumbledore would be less inclined to be a pain in the ass when he expected to get his hands on Harry come September 1st. They had moved immediately after to Malfoy Manor, just to be sure that nobody would find them and Bella had upped Harry’s training in Occlumency that she had started as soon as they had made their decision.

Bellatrix and Harry had shared some information about the last four years with the Malfoys, including the fact that Harry was a Parselmouth. When they got ready to leave for King’s Cross - Bella would stay behind and Harry find his way to the platform on his own from the Muggle side - Lucius took Harry aside.

The eleven-year-old wizard looked with friendly curiosity at the head of the Malfoy family. Although they had lived together under the same roof for the last month they had never talked in private before.

“Here, Harry. I want you to have this. The Dark Lord left it with me more than ten years ago. He said whoever held it would be able to open the Chamber of Secrets. With you being a Parselmouth, I think you should have it,” Lucius explained the reason.

Harry took the slim book from his hands and inspected the shabby black cover. It looked unremarkable. Years in Bellatrix company had taught him that the unremarkable was often the most dangerous. Carefully, he opened what was to all outward appearance a Muggle notebook and found the faded inscription: T.M. Riddle.

A smirk spread on his face and he nodded at Lucius.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I am sure that I can put it to good use.”

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

Later that same day, Harry James Potter was sorted Slytherin. Albus Dumbledore was not happy. 

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_The present,  
31st October 1998_

Harry winced in sympathy when Tom collided back first with the hard stone floor and immediately rolled to his feet. Crouching low, heedless of the blood that ran freely over his mangled back and dripped to the floor, the older wizard snarled. The heavy pressure of unleashed magic permeated the air in the cavernous room, trying to crush everything inside.

Grinning, Harry sheathed his wand and walked away from the wall. His own magic was creating a bubble around him, a buffer between himself and the destructive force of Tom’s. The water in the pool was bubbling and sizzling, the bed beneath Bellatrix was creaking ominously. Harry shot her a glance. As she looked unconcerned, he left her to defend herself - she was a very capable witch after all - and returned his focus solely to the other wizard in the room.

“The game is on,” he whispered under his breath and adjusted his stance. In a mocking gesture, he beckoned Tom to attack him with a wave of his hand and wasn’t disappointed when the dark-haired wizard pushed his hand forward, sending a ball of unformed, concentrated magic at him.

In a show of carelessness that not even seven years in Slytherin had been able to drive out of him, Harry let it impact with his chest, wincing slightly. _That will leave a bruise._

The manoeuvre had been successful in so far that he didn’t have to fend off the following attack that had even more force behind it and struck the spot where he would have been if he had tried to dodge the first one.

Tom shot a confused look at him and Harry winked back before twisting on the spot and vanishing from view.

He reappeared only a step away from the other wizard. As Tom had expected him to appear behind him, he had swirled around and was now with his back to Harry, who seized the chance and kicked the back of his legs, then grabbing his shoulders and holding him down, backing his physical strength with magic.

Crouching down to bring his mouth next to Tom’s ear, he said:

“The heir of Slytherin outsmarted by an eighteen-year-old. You should be ashamed, Tom.”

Just in time before his nose would have made acquaintance with the other’s stubborn head, he pulled his own away. Laughing joyously, he gave Tom’s shoulders a vicious push and followed behind with his whole body when the other tried to brace himself against the floor.

Only the other’s yelp of pain reminded him that he was pressing against open welts and bruises when he moulded his clothed body against Tom’s naked back. Not wanting to treat with that right now, he removed his wand from its holster and cast a healing spell that had the older man trashing below him. It worked wonders but felt as if the wounds were washed out with salt water. Nasty little spell and purely light. He loved the irony behind it.

The trashing made Harry aware that he was also in direct contact with Tom’s naked ass and he mumbled a second spell, taking advantage of the fact that he had his wand already in hand. His blood soiled robes disintegrated around him, leaving him just as nude as the wizard below him.

By now, Tom was stock-still and breathing shallowly. Harry’s erection pressed against his buttocks and his hands ran down Tom’s arms to grip his wrists tightly.

With a hoarse voice, the younger wizard suggested:

“What do you say, Tommy-boy. Shall we take this to the next level?”

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Seven years ago,  
31st of October 1991_

*Hello Tom*

*Hello Harry*

*Alvina sends her greetings. She still feels lonely down in the Chamber and expresses her hopes that you someday will be able to visit again.*

*That is very nice of her. I, too, would like to see the old girl again.*

*Regarding that: Bella has some ideas how we might help you to get back your corporeal form. We will discuss this at Christmas.*

...

*Tom? Still there? Anyway, you really have to stop trying to possess me and leeching off my strength or I’ll have to stop writing to you. Dumbledore is already suspicious because you made me kill those roosters.*

*What? How did you…*

*Let’s be real. You thought I wouldn’t notice the blanks in my memory? You are the only magical artifact I interact with and you yourself admitted your desire to become a fully-formed wizard to me when I visited you inside the diary. Honestly, being confined to it for so long has damaged your cunning mind, if you ask me. Maybe I should slip you to one of those annoying Gryffindor girls and you can listen to their silly schoolgirl problems. Would you like that more?*

*What? No! Please, Harry, don’t do that. Okay, no power-leeching, no possession. We are good.*

…

*Are we? Don’t abandon me, Harry. I like to talk to you. Tell me more about your trip to the Chamber. Did you find Salazar’s study?*

*Alright, Tom. Hell yeah. Was it always so damp in there?*

The Chamber of Secrets was opened several times that year. Nobody ever found out.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_Five years ago,  
21st of June 1993_

The summer solstice one year later found Lucius, Narcissa, Bella, and Harry gathered around a bonfire. It had taken both Bellatrix and Harry - and technically Tom in several sessions through writing and even a visit to the diary or two - that long to persuade the Malfoys that it was a good idea to do this. The heavy fragrance of incense tried to cloud their senses. Cool wind kissed their naked feet and made their loose, flimsy robes flutter.

A sturdy wooden box rattled from time to time but was ignored by all present in favour of readying the ritual side on the extensive Malfoy grounds for the ceremony. It even had a small stone circle with an altar just off the middle on which a sacrifice - a young stag - was waiting to be offered. Bellatrix had wanted to sacrifice a virgin Muggle girl or maybe a Mudblood - had even asked Harry and Draco if they knew someone suitable in their year - and Lucius had been partial to the idea. However, Harry and Narcissa had banded together and put their feet down, so highly symbolic animal sacrifice it was.

They danced around the fire. Harry was hesitant at first, feeling like a fool and out of place. The longer he watched the others and their natural grace with which they performed the movements that should look silly, the more did he let himself fall into line. If even tall, regal Lucius could flutter his arms and twist and turn, than he could as well. The women looked like fairies to his eyes, otherworldly beauties in their white-and-green dresses, one dark and one fair.

When the bonfire burned low, they took turns to jump over it. By now, Harry could taste the magic in the air and on his skin. It only increased in intensity when they cut the throat of the stag and sprinkled its blood over the glowing embers. The drops sizzled on the remains of the fire.

“Is it now time to open the box?” asked a young voice that sounded much too loud in the trance-like silence that had encompassed the ritual side for so long.

“Draco, no!” Narcissa’s yell came too late. The blond boy that had snuck into the stone circle because he hadn’t wanted to be left out - Harry was even younger than him, it wasn’t fair! - had already opened the box. With a whoosh, Voldemort’s spirit form shot out of it and into the barely lit night sky, a cloud of malevolent energy that looked pitch black even in the sparse light of the torches that they had put around the perimeter.

It spun on the spot and aimed for the easiest victim among them - Draco.

While Cissa was still lamenting, Bellatrix had acted. “Accio box!” she shouted and showed her masterful control over the spell when she directed the flying object with her wand, sending it into a curve that scooped the disembodied Dark Lord out of the air and back into the box before it shot towards her. She sidestepped and let the wooden box crash into the fire where it re-ignited the flames that devoured container and snake corpse with hungry vigour.

Had the Dark Lord had a voice, he would have laughed and lectured them that no mere fire could hurt him. He would have been wrong on several accounts.

Bella’s action had Lucius and Harry fall into step only a second later. They started the chant that should enable the diary that lay at the bottom of the bonfire pile - now mostly ash and embers - to siphon off the ritual magic and - in the end - the lifeforce of Voldemort’s spirit.

Narcissa needed a moment longer. She gathered her baby boy into her arms and pressed his head against her chest, as much for his reassurance as for her own. But she was not a daughter of the House of Black for nothing and quickly regained her composure, joining the chant with her clear voice.

Tendrils of flames wrapped around the Dark Lord’s essence, binding him to the fire and his own horcrux. The latter happily gobbled up the magic that had been released inside the stone circle, spirit of his older self included. It didn’t know what it was that it consumed, only that it was tasty if slightly tainted, very compatible mostly Dark magic.

When it was done, the fire flared high and hot, scorching the night sky, before it died down completely, leaving behind a slim, shabby book that was brimming with energy. The pages flipped open, shedding grey-white ash and softly glowing embers. Another flash of light and the paper spewed forth a person clad in Slytherin school robes with a Prefect badge pinned on the lapel, the dark hair immaculately groomed.

Harry stepped forward, smiling at the older boy.

“Hello Tom!”

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

Inside the Department of Mysteries, a prophecy orb dulled, the swirling mist inside turning grey. The prophecy was fulfilled, the Dark Lord Voldemort was no more. 

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_The present,  
31st October 1998_

Harry was groaning, driving himself into the bucking body below him again and again. He bit down on Tom’s shoulder, digging his teeth into the bruised flesh not for the first time during their violent coupling.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle, do you consent to become my somewhat willing slave?” he gasped between breaths, his teeth stained red with his partners blood.

“Make me!” Tom growled in reply, yelping when Harry reached around their entwined bodies and grasped his cock with punishing force. “Damn, hell, yes, I do. No need to be so brutal!”

“Do you vow to become mine, and only mine? To renounce all other bonds of law and magic?” Harry knew better than to expect obedience from the other wizard.

This time, the reply was appropriately worded but laced with a mocking tone that showed a severe lack of sincerity.

“Yes, master. I do.”

“Do take that seriously, Tom. It is for life, after all,” Harry chided. With his own climax approaching, he found it more and more difficult to concentrate on the bonding ritual. Why hadn’t he waited until after his release? Oh yes, because he loved to bring them both to completion at the same time Well, he would just have to hurry.

“Do you accept to wear my collar with pride until the day you die?”

At least, for this last question, Tom’s answer was heartfelt and contained all the sincere emotion he could wish for.

“Heck yes, Harry, I do. Only you, only yours.”

Filled with happiness, Harry reached for his wand, only to find the holster empty. Not stopping the thrusting, he cured under his breath and extended a hand, thinking hard _Accio wand_. The wooden stick shot up from where it had rolled, forgotten in the heat of the moment - just good that Tom hadn’t noticed. He would have hexed Harry into next week if he had gotten his hand on the wand - and into Harry’s waiting hand.

Quickly, the pure gold collar was conjured and fastened around Tom’s throat and the wand stored safely away in its sheath. As there were no other claim to fight on the twenty-one-year-old, only one thing was left to do.

The hand he had still wrapped around Tom’s erection began to pump. At the same time, he shifted a bit, adjusting his angle until he had the older wizard keening with every stroke.

After that, it didn’t take long. Tom fought the inevitable as tenaciously as always - that was why Harry loved him so much, the stubborn bugger - when Harry sank his teeth into the nape of his neck, he gave in and came with a shudder.

Just as with Bella, the collar melded into his skin with a flash of light - something that reminded Harry of the ritual that had brought the then-boy into their world - and left behind only the angry red lines of the runes that would fade to gold over time.

Harry followed behind a second later, screaming his release carried on a wave of joy so mighty, he thought he passed out for a minute or two.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

_The present,  
1st November 1998_

He came back to his senses to Bella giggling and clapping. For a grown-up woman she could act very immature sometimes.

“You two together are always such a pretty picture!” she announced. “Join me?”

With a groan, one of sore muscles this time instead of desire, Harry separated from Tom and staggered to his feet, offering the other man his hand to help him to stand up as well.

Tom accepted graciously and was pulled upright. Too late, he saw the mischievous twinkle in Harry’s emerald green eyes and had only time to widen his eyes in apprehension before he was picked up and carried bridal style by the younger wizard.

His protest was stifled by a quick kiss, followed by Harry’s stern declaration:

“No, I am the master here. I say I’ll take care of you now and you will be a good little slave and let me do it. No backtalk this time.” His voice became soft and held a hint of pleading. “I need that now.”

That made the difference for Tom and he acquiesced.

The pool was still intact after their little powerplay earlier and the scented water was back to bearable temperatures. When Harry washed him with the sponge he asked casually to help Tom to distract himself from the discomfort he still felt at such affectionate gestures:

“When did you break that silencing spell?”

Tom smirked.

“By the time you finished painting those blood runes on Bella’s body. Very good work there, by the way.”

“Thank you. Had a lot of practise. And thanks for not ruining the ceremony for her.”

They fell back into silence for the rest of the washing, but it was a more companionable silence.

/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\/(|)\

Later, they were curled up together on the bed, all three sleepy and content. On the brink of slumber, Harry enquired from Tom, his voice slightly slurred:

“Is there something I can give you for becoming mine? Something in my power as a token of gratitude?”

Not love. Tom didn’t do love though the expression in those dark brown eyes could have fooled Harry.

“Just the world, Harry, just the world…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta Dani. Love you.
> 
> This is my first complete(?) FF and also my first ever exchange, so please go easy on me.
> 
> I have no idea if that was the kind of BDSM and relationship the giftee was thinking of, however, it was the one my muse insisted on.
> 
> While writing, I just now realised that she kidnaps him on my actual birthday. Isn’t that fitting?


End file.
